A Moment of Lucidity
by Digitalis02
Summary: What if Will wasn't the only one Helen found? A 'Pavor Nocturnus' re-vamp. What Helen learns and experiences will ultimately cause her to make more than one decision in her life. Finished!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was loosely inspired by the Teslen rain theme, simply because it was raining in 'Pavor Nocturnus' =P It asks the question of what if Will wasn't the only one Helen found? I've obviously changed things around. Anyway, this'll only be two or three chapters, so please enjoy, tell me whatcha think, and thanks for reading! =)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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A Moment of Lucidity

Was she really going to do this? Helen stared at the jar in her hand, mesmerized by the green carvings and more importantly, what it could do.

This would be the beginning of her end.

Peace.

Rest.

Oblivion.

Helen blinked.

Now she was cold. It was dark. And she was lying on the floor.

The ground underneath felt different, even and tiled. Helen blinked again. The picture remained the same. Rolling onto her back (how had she gotten onto the floor?), Helen stared up at the high ceiling. Propping herself up, Helen saw the familiar corridors of her Sanctuary, dark, ransacked, and littered with debris. Leaves strewn across the floor mingled with inches of dust and the lush paintings she meticulously picked and bought with their colors now dull and lifeless. The rich tones in the wood paneling, now dry and faded. Spiderwebs wafted across everything. The physical culmination of her dream lay in abandoned disarray around her.  
What had happened? How had she gotten here? What was going on?

A sudden, innocuous mist weaved into existence and Helen watched it with disquiet. She shuffled away as it approached her and then faded just as quickly as it had come.

Was this a hallucination? Helen checked her pulse and stood. Was it a dream? The rising suspicion that it wasn't caused Helen's heart to race. What had she stumbled into?  
Wrapping her arms around herself, Helen quelled a tiny frisson of fear and began to walk. Seeking out the answers to those questions silently asked and the myriad of others assaulting her mind; the most important being: where was everyone else?

Utter devastation. The city had been completely decimated. Helen shivered in the howling rain and torrid gusts of wind, soaking her clothes as she walked along the roof. Her alarmed confusion mounted as she beheld the destruction. Whole buildings gone, stripped down to their foundations and beyond. The sky was dark, covered with thick, unforgiving clouds, concealing the sky and sun, adding to the somber, frightening blight.

It was Armageddon.

Goosebumps rose on her chilled skin. Frigid rain dripped down her skin and plastered her hair against prickled flesh.

To get her answers, Helen would have to venture out there. Into this sinister, macabre scene of death on Earth.

Her logical mind demanded calm and rationale, while Helen's baser instincts wanted to shudder away from such a prospect.

"Will! Henry!" Helen scrounged around her home and found a coat, but not another single living soul. She didn't know which one she would have preferred at the moment.

Helen wrapped herself tightly in the coat, but it did nothing to stop the cold. It came from inside, underneath her skin. That cold fear, anxiety, and panic at being completely at a loss. It caused her to shiver.

Thick vines scaled the Sanctuary walls, growing and making quick work of entombing the remains of her life.

Everything had been abandoned and wrecked. Water leaked in from the ceilings, creating ugly, yellowed water-spots, gaping holes, and destroying her books, the work of over a hundred years and more. Some of them had been penned by cherished friends, her father, and now, their and his words, the familiar scrawls, were forever blotched and smudged into obscurity by the simple act of rain.

The fear gained a more solid foothold within as Helen shambled through her Sanctuary, still no closer to understanding anything. Will, Henry, Kate, Bigfoot...Their rooms still held some of their most treasured possessions. A old photograph of baby Will with his family; mother, father, and sister all before the tragedy and subsequent estrangement. Kate's impressive music collection she often boasted about and then lamented over at their blank faces. Henry's customized computer gaming system that took up half a wall in his room and that he had proudly built at the age of nineteen, two years after he arrived in her Sanctuary.

Still here; destroyed, ransacked, decayed, and weathered by time. But no sign of their owners. Where had they gone?

The abnormals were all gone, and Helen couldn't imagine what it took to move them. For she refused to believe that they had been destroyed, killed; just as Helen refused to acknowledge that the same could have happened to the ones she was starting to form a family with. Because doing so would allow the fear steadily building up in her to turninto despair. If they were all dead, then Helen would truly be alone - Ashley had already left her and Helen would have nothing to cling to in the dark loneliness.

Shuffling.

Distinct shuffling caught Helen's ear and she gripped the gun she had found, amazingly with a loaded clip still intact; the only workable weapon Helen found in the entire building.

Something dragged on the floor, heavy and large. The shuffling grew louder and Helen peered out of the weapons locker to her right.

The shuffling stopped.

Helen frowned.

A huffing grunt. Helen froze as a gust of air permeated her soaked hair. Monstrous fingers wrapped around her shoulder and yanked her to the left, pinning her against an unyielding wall.

It was Bigfoot. And it wasn't Bigfoot. His grip was painful, nearly dislocating Helen's shoulder, and he crushed her against the wall. The shaggy fur was familiar; the mad-hungry, psychotic eyes were not. He growled and Helen struggled. Something was decidedly wrong here.

Helen aimed the gun at his leg.

It jammed. Her eyes widened.

Bigfoot opened his mouth and amidst the viscous saliva dripping, an alien tube slowly emerged, sharpening into a thick needle-like point. Aimed directly at her face and Helen struggled harder. Pain from her shoulder lanced through her body. Her hands worked to work the trigger loose, staring fearfully at the piercing appendage inching closer. Drool dripped from it. Bigfoot stared rabidly back at her, unrecognizable as he moved to kill her.

A shot rang out the instant Helen felt the trigger give and the pain was just enough for her to wriggle loose and sprint down the corridor, uncaring of the burning in her shoulder nor the huffing howl behind her, receding into the fathomless corridors of her home.

It was no longer safe for Helen to stay here. Though, to say it was any safer outside would be a misconception as Helen savagely ripped the massive vines off the front door, scratching her hands against the rough bark. Finally wrenching open the door enough for her to stumble through, Helen was greeted by the whipping pelt of rain. Droplets of water stung her face while the icy wind blasted her.

Supplies. And answers. Helen steadfastly tempered those two words in her mind as she moved, as she entered the desolate ruins of Old City. She needed them both, and fast, if she ever hoped to survive in this nightmarish new world.

The city was just as bad as it looked from atop the Sanctuary. Helen walked along its streets, amongst the gutted buildings. Abandoned cars, stripped stores, loose plastic from building insulation fluttering violently with the wind, and everywhere Helen turned, everything had been razed and ravaged.

Everywhere Helen turned, there was no one to be found.

That frightened Helen more so. To feel hollow and alone on the inside was unbearable, but to have it physically manifested into being the last person alive was splintering. Her gift of longevity was a curse.

Helen gathered what meager supplies she could find and the weather worsened. She traveled until night fell and the world around her grew more sinister. Where was everyone? At this point, Helen would welcome anyone.

The rain intensified; the droplets became stones striking her face. She was being followed. That uneasy feeling of being watched immediately caused her breathing to speed up and her muscles to tense.

Gasping in pain as her hand sliced against the sharp metal of a car she was taking wires from. Now she was hurt, and Helen had no idea where she was going to get medical supplies from. Despair rose.

Squinting against the rain, Helen suddenly saw that mist again. It swirled a few meters away, untouched by the rain. What did it _want_? What was it supposed to _mean_?

A man rushed at her from the shadows.

Helen raised her gun, but he was too quick. Slipping against the rain-slicked cement, Helen winced as the man knocked her against a brick wall. She took back that welcoming anyone thought. This was not what she meant. His arm crushed against her throat, choking her. Was this how she was going to die?

No. Helen changed her mind a second later as the man, the abnormal, pulled down his dirty mask and opened his mouth. It was just like before. That alien appendage shot out of his mouth, revealing its grotesque needle point. Was _this_ how she was going to die? She struggled, but her strength, and her air, waned.

The abnormal suddenly jerked as it was shot with a red light and it fell away. Coughing hard, Helen turned and saw two men wearing hazmat suits, wielding guns. "What the hell is going on?"

Wordlessly, one man raised his gun.

"Stop!" A voice rang out.

He fired at her and Helen fell to the ground. She was vaguely aware of being caught and held against a body.

"You idiot!" Blue-gray eyes peered worriedly at her through her darkening vision. "Helen? It's okay, Helen. I've got you." His voice, concerned and angry at the same time, became an indistinguishable buzz.

Heavy eyelids slid shut and Helen knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Warmth. A body pressed close against hers.

"What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?" An angry voice snapped out, close by. "You did not have to shoot her!"

"That's not Magnus! It can't be! She's dead, remember?" A second, more angry voice shouted. "She died three years ago!"

"Evidently not, as she is lying right here, hale, whole, and _alive_."

Two male voices. One young and the other cultured. Silkily refined, and furious. It was this one that held Helen carefully in his arms, this she judged as she slowly woke from a painful headache. What had they shot her with?

"It can't be," the younger male argued. His voice shook with anger and denial. "She's dead! She's _dead_! That thing in your arms isn't her; it has to be some sort of shape-shifting abnormal, a chameleon, or something."

The arms tightened around her. The cultured voice growled lowly, "Never, _never_ call Helen 'thing'," the voice spat. "And it _is_ her. I can tell the difference." A hand removed a piece of her wet hair sticking to her forehead, caressing the damp skin. "It's Helen. Perhaps there was a colony somewhere that we didn't know about, that she left to search for us." He laughed softly. "That would be just like her, stupidly always thinking about others."

Helen wanted to frown in confusion. That voice sounded so familiar, but no one she knew would hold her so tenderly, so protectively.

There was a pause, but the hostility Helen sensed in the air was still heavy. "It's not her. It's not." The younger one was adamant. "After three years, she shows up? It's not her." Another pause. "I know how much you want to believe it, but there was no way Magnus could have escaped that air strike. She's gone. I know you loved her; that was easy to see afterward, but Tesla...she's gone."

Inhaling sharply, Helen's eyes flew open to meet blue-gray eyes. "Nikola," she breathed almost silently. His hair had grown, pulled back into a groomed short ponytail and he had a shadow on his face from not shaving. Her astonished eyes took in the rest of his appearance. The tailored, finely-cut clothes Nikola preferred to wear were gone and instead he was dressed in wrinkled, black army fatigues.

Nikola's eyes though, his mischievous, devilish eyes had not changed. They stared gleefully back at her, at her gaping expression. "Hello, Helen. Miss me?" His arms were warm and tight around her, confirming that this was not a dream. His eyes roved over her soaked body. "You look good. Delicious."

The remark and lascivious leer was so familiar that Helen's hand twitched to smack him. Instead, she gingerly sat up and pushed him away slightly. Turning her head, Helen nearly gaped again at the younger, angrier voice. It was Will. And it wasn't. "Will..." His hair was long, and her laid-back protégé looked unkempt and hostile, expertly pointing a gun at her.

"Who are you?"

She blinked. "Will, it's me..."

If anything, Will's face darkened further with anger. His grip on his gun tightened. "Your name!"

"Helen. Magnus. Satisfied?!"

Nikola scowled. "I don't particularly like how you have that gun shoved into Helen's face like that. Move. It."

Will ignored him and scoffed. "I don't think so. Helen Magnus died three years ago."

"What?" Helen whispered, shocked. The look on Will's dirty face was lined with fury and he was ready to shoot her. For daring to impersonate someone so dear. She spun to look at Nikola and silently asked him to explain, but his face too, was angry. His blue-gray eyes sparked malevolently at Will. He tightened his grip on Helen and raised a gun she hadn't noticed before. "I believe I told you to remove your gun from her face."

"Stop this!" Helen scrambled to stand, placing herself between the two. "This is madness. Now I have no idea what is going on, but I need some answers and that does not involve either of you shooting the other."

Neither man made a move, hostility thickening the air and Helen's agitated confusion pounded her mind.

"She's probably infected and she's definitely lying. She needs to be screened."

Nikola mockingly cupped his ear. "I'm sorry, but when do I take orders from a miscreant like you?"

Will's face, streaked with dirt and pale, twisted monstrously with his growing hatred. "She is not to be trusted and for once, you are the fool," Will spat. He glared coldly at Helen and stalked out, animosity rippling off him.

"Humans." Nikola tsk-ed. "I'll have to kill him later for that remark." He turned to her and shot her a familiar smirk that would have comforted her if his antagonism hadn't created tendrils of unease snaking along her skin. "But you do have to go through decontamination and scanning, just to be sure. Not that," his eyes mischievously raked her wet form, enjoying the way her clothes stuck to her curves, "I mind how you are right now."

"Decontamination..." Helen grew more confused and frustrated. A part of her pained at Will's cold departure. She frowned at Nikola, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest from his focused gaze. "Nikola, what's going on? I don't understand anything."

"Anything? At all?" he teased her. "What's two plus two? Why does it rain? Why haven't you passionately kissed me yet? Why do cats meow and dogs bark?"

She gritted her teeth. "I meant about the situation, Nikola. And why would I kiss you?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't you?"

Helen opened her mouth to retort, but oddly found herself at a loss. Nikola smirked. And she shook her head exasperatingly. "Nikola, focus. Decontamination. An infection? A plague? You think I'm infected? Is that what's happened here?" Helen's eyes widened horrifically. "Was that abnormal you shot infected?" Bigfoot was also infected then, she realized, thinking back to their encounter. Fear sharpened within. This was devastating. Was this why the entire city was decimated? Oh god.

"So many questions..." Nikola murmured silkily. The playful smirk, his teasing countenance suddenly slid off his face like melting wax, and his features became blank. Helen narrowed her eyes at this transformation. His unreadable gaze flicked to her hand. "You're still bleeding."

Helen swallowed, hard.

"Here." He cradled her bleeding palm in one hand and popped open the medical kit beside him. His touch became soft as Nikola gently cleaned her cut. "You do look good." This remark was quiet and low, almost as if he had not meant for her to hear it. "Delicious."

Helen looked at Nikola and saw that his eyes were riveted, almost fanatically, on her hand.

His touch was still soft, his grip light. Nikola's gaze darkened at the sight of such rich, red blood. It stained Helen's pure white skin and oozed out of her wound like succulent juices from a plump piece of meat. Running over and down her skin, begging to be licked and savored. That the rich, thick liquid came from Helen of all people made him want to lick his lips.

"Nikola?"

Helen's tentative call of his name caused him to snap his eyes away, down to the floor to hide their darkening. Abruptly Nikola stood, all but throwing the alcoholic cotton ball into her lap. "I think you can do the rest yourself, yes?" He cleared his throat, gritting his teeth, and ignoring Helen's puzzled stare at his clenched fists. Suddenly, Nikola spun away from her, shuddering. Without another word, Nikola strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ordinarily the sight of Will would have reassured her, Nikola more so, but their behaviors. Will was so hostile, Nikola was erratic. Helen had walked into a post-apocalyptic world where everything has changed and the people she once knew, the people she carried in her heart, were irrevocably transformed. And she was dead. Had been for three years.

Helen sat shivering on the dirty floor. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to steady herself in a free-fall of confusion and desolation and winced. Her hand was still bleeding. Feeling goosebumps over her cold skin, Helen concentrated on bandaging her hand. If she couldn't understand what was going on around her, then she could at least take comfort in what she did know.

The metal door banged open, rattling on its hinges. "Look who I found!" Nikola re-entered with a grand flourish, arms wide. His playfulness was back, but it did not reassure Helen. Something was still wrong here. That uneasy feeling continued its ominous crawl along her spine. She made no move to welcome him, but her blue eyes did widen at the sight of Kate.

The young woman was gaunt. Permanent circles under tired eyes marked the beginning of a plunge into despair. Whatever had happened to the world, to those infected people, also dragged Kate down in its malevolent quest to destroy the world.

"Kate." Would she rant and rave at her as well? Tell her that she was dead?

"Magnus." Kate nodded. She sounded exhausted and weary. "I need to get you cleaned up and scanned." In her hand was a piece of technology that Helen had never seen before. "Come on, you can wash off in the next room."

Helen tentatively followed her with Nikola falling in step behind her. It did not put her at ease. Everything about this place was miserable. Dark and dank; Helen wondered how Nikola was faring with his phobia in a place so godforsaken as this. It was only inches better than outside, from the tempestuous weather and infected victims, but the desolate air followed. Unable to be kept out, it leaked through cracks and wafted around bodies, coating people, drowning them in gloom. Like Kate.

The room next door had a make-shift shower with no door and was just as meager as the rest of the building.

Helen looked expectantly at Nikola, who looked at her back, a grin playing about his lips. "Nikola," she began sweetly. "Get out." As expected, his grin widened salaciously before bowing and walking out, closing the door behind him. Kate stayed and it was obvious she was there to monitor Helen.

"Sorry about Will. He's..." Kate tiredly sighed. Her dark eyes looked at Helen. "It's just that...when you died, or rather, when we thought you died, it tore him apart. And then all this..." She waved her hand around, gesturing with the scanner in her hand.

"How did I die?" Helen began removing her clothes under the sickly dim light, grimacing as they stuck to her.

Kate seemed to take Helen's amnesia in stride, or was just too weary to care. "Three years ago, you were evacuating an Argentine neighborhood when the air force dropped a daisy cutter. Fifteen thousand people were vaporized, including you."

Helen shivered under the cold spray, but vigorously scrubbed her skin with a tiny bar of soap. She'd bathed in worse times.

"We're part of a larger militia, but, well," Kate shrugged. "We're few and far between. We keep fighting though, 'cause what else can we do? And finding a cure, I suppose, although that's mainly Tesla's job. He keeps insisting that there is one, just like you did. And we go out every day, trying to find survivors." Kate's voice was quiet. "Even after you died...I knew that's what you would've wanted us to keep doing. Henry, Will...they were both devastated and Tesla," Kate whistled lowly. "When he arrived at Sanctuary to see if it was true, the guy just shut-down. Locked himself in your room and came out three weeks later, issuing orders."

Helen's heart skipped. Wringing out her wet hair, she stepped out of the shower and used a small towel to dry herself. The shower had done nothing. Helen was still cold and the desolate air still coated her skin like an embrace from an unwelcome presence.

Kate looked searchingly at her. "If it is you...then, it's good to have you back, doc." The younger woman swallowed visibly and busied herself with the scanner, waving it over Helen's body. _You were missed._ After a few moments, Kate nodded. "You're clean. You're good. Here." She handed Helen a pile of clothes.

Taking them, Helen hesitated and then laid a tentative hand on Kate's shoulder. "It _is_ me, Kate. I don't have the whole picture yet, but, I am glad to have found you." She offered a slight smile. Helen began putting on the dry clothes, which fit surprisingly well.

Kate returned her smile with a smaller one.

A knock sounded at the door. "Helen?" Nikola.

"I'm still changing." She struggled with the buttons of her shirt, using only one hand since the other still hurt.

"Do you need help? I'm wonderful at putting clothes on, or taking them off."

Helen rolled her eyes at Kate, happy to see a bigger smile on the younger woman's face as they shared in the amusement of male antics.  
When she was finished, Kate opened the door to Nikola's expectant face. "She's clean," Kate announced.

Nikola approached with a jaunty step and without warning, grabbed Helen's face and kissed her.

It was a repeat of Rome. The feel of his unfamiliar smooth lips on hers, the soft press, right down to the foreign tingling in her stomach. Helen jerked back, surprised she hadn't done so at the first touch.

"Don't ever do that again," she admonished.

"Ever?" Nikola let go of her face, grinning, before sweeping over her form. He clicked his tongue. "It's a shame. You looked good, all wet."

Will suddenly burst into the room, striding over to Helen and raising a gun to her face. Nikola slapped it away. "You. Did you do this?" he demanded angrily.

"Will!" Kate frowned, tugging at his arm. "She's clean. I've cleared her. What's wrong?"

Will glanced at her, his expression not softening. "The base is under attack."

"Secure the perimeter. Go!" Kate's demeanor changed immediately as she ordered Will. "Will!" Kate got into his face as he stood there, glaring at Helen. "Do it!"

Again, Helen wondered what happened to her kindhearted protégé. Human emotions were capable of reaching great depths; love could incite a war, anger could destroy a nation, but Will's pure fury with her caused her to step back.

Kate roughly shoved Will toward the door, giving orders and both stalked off, emotions brewing high. Something had gone wrong between them.

"Come on." Nikola grabbed her hand and began leading her away.

"Nikola, where are we going? We should help." Helen accepted the gun he thrust at her, but glanced behind her at the commotion.

"This base is as good as gone. Once they start coming, they never stop." He stopped suddenly and faced her in the dim light. "Do you trust me?"

Did she? Helen had always treated Nikola with caution; being his friend provided no protection from his mercurial moods or his maddening schemes. Case in point, Rome. And while Helen was doubtful Nikola actually meant to kill her, kidnap her maybe; Nikola's vicious words were often contradictory to his noble actions. So, did she trust him? "Of course."

Nikola's eyes smiled brilliantly and Helen had a feeling something significant just occurred, but he had resumed pulling her down a tunnel. "We need to get out of here. The others will know where we've gone and join us." _If they survive_.

"We need to get to the Sanctuary."

"The Sanctuary? Helen, there's nothing there."

"They may not be noticeable, Nikola, but the answers are there. There is a reason I woke up there and we need to go back," Helen insisted.

"What do you mean, you woke up there?"

"It means exactly that. I woke up there," Helen enunciated slowly like he was dim-witted child. "I still don't know what's going on. No one's explained anything." Everyone was too caught up in bad memories, or anger. "Didn't you hear my questions to you earlier?"

Nikola looked thoughtful before opening a metal door. "Actually, I was more focused on you. It's so rare I get to hold you close in my arms, Helen, and you were all wet and curvy and - "

"Not another word."

The two emerged in an alley, no different than any other Helen had seen.

"We need to hurry. Before any palefaces cross our path." Nikola began darting through alleyways, delving back into the ominous atmosphere of this hellish new world.

"Palefaces?" Helen shivered in the cold. She'd forgotten her coat and once again, she was getting wet. The rain assaulted her face and her body, grimly welcoming her back.

"It's what we call them. This is more than just a plague, Helen," Nikola explained in whispers as he flattened himself against a wall before peeking around it. "This is a new species; cannibalistic, mindless, soulless." In a manner reminiscent of Rome and Nikola's escapades in the 40s, the two made their way to the Sanctuary. Helen could see the Gothic spires through the rain. Nikola explained everything in a hushed voice as they ran.

It was a child this time.

A young boy. Wrapped in rags, he approached them in a jerking motion and Helen couldn't help but back away in fear. This, this had to be some sort of nightmarish dream as the small figure lurched toward them with twitching hands.

Nikola shot him without hesitation.

A taller one rushed from their right out of the darkness. Hands raised to grab and kill, to snatch and eat. They were cannibals. This one already had its mouth open, wanting to render their skin off.

"Stay away from her." The warning was made through angry gritted teeth and a bolt of electricity flared through the air to engulf the infected. His raggedy body convulsed and smoke rose from his clothes for long minutes before Nikola finally granted his release. The smell of unwashed, burnt flesh made Helen want to gag. Her opponent dropped to the ground. "There will be more coming," Nikola said tersely. "It's like they have a build-in system to alert them when one of their kind have found fresh prey."

Helen raised her gun as bodies came rushing out of the shadows. "Too late." She hastily began firing.

They poured in from everywhere. From every possible direction, hordes upon hordes converged, eerily silent in their psychotic mindlessness. At one point, Helen thought they even dropped from the sky as she pivoted side to side, rapidly firing. Each time one fell, three took its place, clamoring over the mass of bodies to get to her and Nikola. They wanted to tear them apart.

Helen and Nikola stood back to back, quelling the advancing tides and strangely, Helen felt no fear. Only Nikola's solid form brushing her back and the steady shots from his gun.

Blurring from one spot to the next behind Helen, Nikola violently shoved a paleface directly in the chest and send him flying like a bowling ball into a stack of pins against the growing crowd of rabid palefaces. "We need to keep moving," he growled out. Grabbing Helen's wrist, Nikola tugged her fiercely down the alley, toward the Sanctuary.

He led the way, gun raised and firing madly; anger coursed through his veins and his vampiric traits emerged, snarling. Not in excitement, there was nothing exciting about death by being ripped asunder; but in Nikola's need to protect Helen.

He had thought he'd lost her three years ago. He would not lose her again. Hearing her shoot down those at their backs, her racing heartbeat, feeling her pounding pulse underneath her smooth skin in his grip...Nikola felt revived. Like there was actually a purpose for living again on this wretched earth that was worse than any Dark Ages. That purpose, his purpose, was the living, breathing woman expertly wielding a gun behind him.

Twists and turns, Nikola and Helen ducked into doorways, backtracked, and pounded the slick streets until they reached the Old City Sanctuary. Sneaking in through the river gate, Nikola navigated the Sanctuary halls with ease. Not releasing her wrist, Nikola took Helen past her office, despite her protests.

"Trust me, Helen," was all he said and because she did, Helen followed him. Nikola's presence, erratic as it was, was the one stable thing, the one sure person Helen could rely on in this changed world. In the midst of all her confusion, Helen clung to Nikola's presence to keep her sane, to keep her steady.

A familiar huffing greeted them as they turned the corner. Helen recoiled.

Cannibalistic. Mindless. Soulless. Bigfoot was chewing on the gunshot wound Helen had given him earlier. His own flesh and blood. Rabid eyes shot up to them and with that familiar lope Helen had seen so many times before, Bigfoot charged them.

"Helen, he's infected." Nikola looked at her as she hesitated. "Helen, shoot him, or I will." He raised his gun.

Bigfoot was feet away when Helen finally shot him. It was quick, painless, and Helen's eyes were wide open and unflinching.

Helen knelt beside her friend. Memories of his arrival and his subsequent stay flashed through her mind – and it struck her that though she was saddened, Helen was not devastated. She had no tears to cry. The reason was simple, Helen had seen too many dear friends pass away. Their deaths were inevitable; she had grown used to the cold truth. In the end, everyone always left her alone...except the man standing behind her. She reached out a hand.

"Helen..." Nikola warned her.

Hovering over his arm, Helen gave a forlorn smile of goodbye to yet another friend in her life. In the end, she would always be alone. It was why she was seeking out an end. Helen just never imagined her end would be in a world like this. "Why is he still here? Why didn't he come with you?"

Nikola shrugged. "After we were forced to abandon here, he refused to leave. I don't know whether he felt like he had to protect it or because this was the beast's home." He stared down at Bigfoot's body. "It hardly matters now." Pulling Helen away, Nikola led her down a corridor and through a heavy barricade. "In here."

Helen looked around in astonishment, in sadness. This was a room rarely-used, by her, anyway. The last memory she had of this room was sealing it up. It had been Ashley's personal training room. It wasn't ordinarily something a mother would ever construct for her daughter, but Ashley's shining smile of delight when she first saw had lightened Helen's heart.

She was astonished because it no longer resembled what it had been. It had been transformed into the remnants of a command center and communal room. Metal tables with dusty computers, car batteries riddled with wire clamps, abandoned circuit boards shared the same space as microscopes, broken vials and capped test tubes.

"This was our base for a while before the Sanctuary became too big to guard." Nikola strode over a bank of computers. "If you're looking for answers, we raided your computer video logs. They should be in here." He gave a mirthless laugh. "I don't know if you'll be able to view them though."

Helen still stood frozen.

"Helen?"

"I haven't been in here for a while."

"The mutt, Foss," Nikola elaborated. "He said that this used to be...Ashley's place."

Helen nodded tearfully and Nikola stepped closer. "In my mind, it hasn't been more than a few months since...It still hurts."

Clearing his throat and uncomfortable with Helen's sad look, Nikola busied himself, hooking up some cables between a car battery and a computer, calling up Helen's personal computer logs. "There is not much here, Helen."

"How did you access these?" Stepping up to the screen, she shot him a suspicious look. "Only I know the password."

"Come now, Helen. There isn't much I don't know about you," Nikola drawled. "Right down to the size of your clothes." _All of them_.

It was almost as if she heard him and Helen shot him an amused look. "Pervert."

Nikola looked offended and placed a hand to his chest. "I am not. Just because I happen to be... mildly obsessed with you does not make me anything of the sort."

Shaking her head, Helen watched the static bits of her last computer entries. "I never understood what you were talking about there," Nikola said, more interested in watching her face.

"Central America," Helen murmured, ignoring Nikola's roving stare. "Honduras...That's the last thing I remember. I was searching for that." She pointed to the small picture of a green Mayan jar.

"Which is?" he prompted, watching Helen avert her face. She didn't want to answer the question. "Helen."

"I'd been researching ancient myths and legends," she began haltingly. Helen didn't want to look at Nikola's face. "How certain cultures had claimed to have found a way to shorten time, to manipulate it. The Mayan kings were abnormals who aged very slowly, like I do." Even if she couldn't see it, Helen could almost picture the sharpening of Nikola's eyes. He was a genius, after all. "T-there was evidence that they'd developed an elixir capable of giving them a normal human lifespan. The kings wanted a release from their advanced age."

Nikola straightened and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. "You were trying to kill yourself?" His face darkened with alarm, with bewilderment, with the fleeting flash of fear.

"No!" Helen scowled and tried to shrug his hands off her, but Nikola's grip was tight. "I wasn't trying to kill myself at all! I was just..."

His jaw ticked. "You were trying to find a way to end your longevity." Nikola made a small sound and suddenly released her, walking away.

Helen bit her lip. He wasn't angry...well, he was, but Helen knew he was more hurt and upset. They were emotions she rarely ever saw from him and to know that she was the cause made her miserable. Of all the people Helen knew in her life, Nikola was part of a handful of people she never wanted to hurt like this. John was another. Ashley, James, her father...

"You weren't going to tell anyone about it, were you? What, were you just going to wait until your first gray hair to tell people?!"

"No - I was, am, was in a bad place. Like I said, it had only been a few months since..." Helen turned away, face crumpling as she remembered Ashley's death. The moments of her daughter's sacrifice revisited her nightly and every morning she woke with more guilt. "The loneliness made it seem like I had nothing..." she trailed off brokenly.

"You still had things to live for. Your precious abnormals, you still had your Sanctuaries, you still had those pesky children that cling to you like irritants! Hell, you still had John, you still had _me_! You've always had me! You just never _saw_ me! When were you going to tell me?" Nikola didn't even wait for an answer. Knowing Helen for over a hundred years made her predictable to him. "You weren't." He shook furiously; his knuckles whitening under the pressure. Nikola suddenly grabbed a chair and threw it against the wall so violently that it broke.

How could she have even thought of doing something like that? Didn't she understand? They were the Five. And even saying that was a paltry description of the bond between them. It was more than just some stupid group, the long-standing friendship between them, their gifts, more than who they were – it was what he represented to her, and what she represented to him.

Having her with him meant never being alone. Nikola's immortality, Helen's longevity – it would always be the two of them, existing together. Always. And Helen dared to spit on it.

Nikola's eyes darkened to the familiar black involuntarily, a warning to anyone of how thin his self-control was and to stay clear.

A warning Helen disregarded, that she had always ignored because like it or not, even Helen noticed how differently Nikola treated her. And if she was as predictable to him, then the same could be said about him. Stepping closer, Helen cupped his cheek, looking softly at him "I'm sorry you were left alone, Nikola."

Nikola may have spent most of his life alienated and isolated, but he always knew that there were people out there for him. A constant in the back of his mind.

Like Helen.

Since her 'death', Nikola had truly experienced loneliness and Helen knew, firsthand, what that felt like.

Nikola gazed broodingly at her, but said nothing. His face leaned slightly into her hand so that the corner of his lips grazed her palm. Helen knew he was still hurt, in a way that was instinctive and nurtured for over one hundred years. She had no need to read his face nor for Nikola to show what he was feeling. With something like this, Helen just knew.

Before she could say anything, clattering could be heard faintly.

"The alarms..."

Nikola pulled away from her and turned away. "I will take care of it." He grabbed his gun a table.

Helen grabbed hers too. "We should both go."

"No," he snapped, still not looking at her. "You stay here."

His quiet footsteps and silent closing of the door caused Helen to flinch.

Everything was wrong. This world was wrong. Why couldn't she remember anything? The people around her had changed so much and everything seemed hopeless. Why couldn't she remember this? Confusion, despair, desperation...they all welled up inside, threatening to kill her within.

But what stung the most was Nikola's anger with her. Helen sunk into a chair and wrapped her arms around herself. She had seen him like this a thousand times, with dozens of other people; but never her. And if Helen were honest with herself, she didn't like it one bit.

Why couldn't she remember?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ugh! I seem to be in a disjointed, procrastinating sort of mood. Anyway, I found this chapter really hard to write and I'm still not happy about it. One more chapter after this. Anyway, enjoy, thanks for reading and please tell me whatcha' think!

* * *

Not again. Nikola couldn't go through that again.

The feel of her satin sheets. He had curled up against the silky texture, had struggled to find solace in the lingering scent of her. How desperate was he that he would bury his nose in the clothes of her wardrobe, would stare at his grip on her hairbrush, lost for hours in his imaginings of her getting ready for the day?  
-

_"You call this existence living?"_

_-_  
_"I had nothing..."_

-

He stalked silently in his uncomfortable army fatigues. Three years. If the situation were not what it was, would he have survived it?

A world without Helen Magnus.

Three years ago, the confirmation of her death had brought him to his knees. She wasn't there anymore. As sudden as a heart attack, as unexpected as a car crash, Helen Magnus was gone. Standing frozen in the the foyer of Old City Sanctuary that day, Nikola half-expected her to emerge, dirty and disheveled, beautiful as always and alive, having pulled off another of her Hail Mary escapades. If this plague had not condemned them, Helen would have started her mortal countdown.

And with her decision, she would have brought him to his knees.

Nikola's finger rested lightly on the trigger of his gun as he neared the shuffling. He smelled fresh blood, heard the heavy puffing of breaths.

He understood. Painfully. Near immortality bestowed the feeling of being removed from the world, of existing on the fringe's of whatever society like a specter, watching and never truly participating. Nikola understood this.

The sharp shard of pain lodged in his body came from Helen's silence. From her decision not to tell him. They had gone more than sixty years without each other. In all likelihood, the next time Nikola would have seen Helen would have been at her funeral. If even that.

Pain sliced through him.

A world without Helen Magnus.

It hurt so damn much to even think about and yet, for three years, that had been his life. His passion had died, his support, his constant; his limbs had been severed and when Nikola looked around, Helen's warm, distant presence was gone. In a blink of an eye.

This plague, this damnable fester upon the world had merely accelerated the process. It took Helen away from him...but she had made the decision to already leave him. To leave him all alone. Without saying a single word.

The stench was recognizable, familiar, for all that he was acquainted with it in close quarters. Nikola swung an arm out.

It hurt. _Inside_, where anything rarely touched him anymore. Helen would have taken that light, that warm mess of emotions that Nikola felt for her, and torn it out with her decision to die. He was in love with her, and she claimed to have nothing to live for. It hurt.

His arm caught a chest and Will went down with a painful thud.

For once in her life, Helen had made a selfish decision and its ripple effect caught Nikola off-balance, onto his knees and metaphorically gasping for breath. She was tired of living and took steps to ensure her death. Leaving him utterly alone.

Nikola glanced down with brooding eyes. "I knew it was you."

Coughing and holding his stomach, Will shuffled to sit up against a wall. He surveyed the bleeding slice across his stomach, soaking the edges of his shirt. "I can guess how. Have you told her?"

Druitt couldn't stand two weeks without her. Nikola had already been dead inside the instant he knew Helen was gone. A world without Helen Magnus was not a world he wanted to live in. Three years in and he was barely surviving. Helen was tired, so was he. Helen had nothing to live for; didn't she know they had to live for each other?

Nikola shrugged, uncaring. "If she hasn't figured it out by now, she will soon. She always does."

And now in this doomed apocalyptic hell, they were both going to get their wishes. Helen was tired of living and wanted to die. She would. Nikola never wanted to live in a world without her. He wouldn't. In their inevitable deaths, Helen would find peace, and Nikola would have Helen.

Nikola smiled grimly. Might as well make the most of it.

He looked sharply at the boy in front of him. "Where's the mouthy girl?"

Will didn't answer. The pain from his wound barely registering in the bleak depths of his mind. The light in her dark eyes had been fierce until the very end, her caramel skin splattered with her own blood. Kate's guttural cry as they overtook her and finally, as Will limped away in his chancy escape, the fading sounds of animals feeding. "I'm the only one left." He wished that wasn't the case. Will was so tired that he wanted to die. "And I knew you would come here."

"About that," Nikola leaned against the wall, "you've made it plain what you think about Helen and I only stayed with this militia out of convenience, since many bodies make many targets, enabling me to escape rather easily. Like I did with Helen earlier. Why do we need you?" They were all going to die, but why lug around extra baggage? Hostile, injured baggage at that.

"She'll eventually ask. What will you say?"

"Helen will assume that you've all died."

Will only scoffed. "She'll ask." He peered knowingly at Nikola. "And you could never lie to her."

A pause and then Nikola narrowed his eyes at the boy he never did like. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked off, leaving Will to struggle after him.

***

It swirled around her and oddly enough, it chased away the cold. It was also trying to tell her something, but what?

_"You've always had me."_

Her video logs were a static mess. Helen didn't understand what they meant; only knowing what she did see of her past self was significant. The mist wafting around her shoulders gathered around the computer as if to say, 'Look! Look! Don't you see?'

_"You just never _saw_ me!" _

Folders fanned the table's surface, laden with sheafs of reports and past tests. Typhus, smallpox, yellow fever, cholera...no relation. The disease always wins.

Everything was confusing. Nothing made sense and Helen continued to flounder. What was the mist trying to tell her? What had Nikola been trying to say? Victorian upbringing suppressed the urge to slam a hand down on the table in frustration. The answers were here; there in her mind and for the life her, Helen couldn't reach out and take them!

She slumped down onto the stool and stared at the door. Nikola's words reverberated in her head, no matter how much she tried to focus on the main problem.

_"...you still had me! You've always had me! You just never saw me!"_

Had Helen ever really seen Nikola?

Selfish and arrogant. An obnoxious ass. Nikola had acted like that for so long, it was all Helen ever chose to see anymore.

The door unlocked and Nikola re-appeared, none the worse for wear. Helen's eyes sought his, but failed to connect as he avoided her. A grungy hand appeared to close the door and this time, it was Helen who avoided Will's hostile stare.

"Where's Kate?" Will slumped onto a chair, busily patching himself up. Nikola didn't look at her. And Helen felt like screaming.

Then there were three. As if it weren't possible enough, the world got darker; Helen's world.

She shuffled through some papers, cursing the fact that she didn't have proper equipment.

"You must have been holed up somewhere real sweet," Will – injured, tired and bitter, spewed out. "You look like you've had food, shelter, sunlight. _Was_ there a colony?" His animosity merged with the desolation in the air, trying to suffocate her.

Helen shook her head, trying to ignore the resentful hostility. "The last thing I recall is Central America. This...this all feels like a dream."

Will slammed his palms against a table and screamed, "Everything is gone! Everything we built, gone. Everyone we ever cared about is dead!" The veins in his neck bulged as unadulterated anger built up in his eyes. It was a far cry from the caring, polite intellectual boy. Now, Will was a dirty, raging, raving man on the verge of a desperate breakdown. "Does this look like a dream?" That desolate air invisibly wound its cold tendrils around him, grimly welcoming Will into its abyss.

Helen saw it clearly. The dark hopelessness enclosing him and she grew colder. She could almost imagine that once Will was lost, that black despair would be reaching out to claim her too. "What happened to you, Will?"

Dirty hands curled themselves into fists. "Life without purpose isn't...life; I learned that from you." Will's voice trembled with exhaustion. He was fading.

"Surely that can't be the only thing I taught you?" Their eyes connected and Helen urged him to fight.

Will just turned around, into the inevitable.

Exhaling heavily, Helen turned back to the papers in front of her. Her eyes searching out something, anything she may have missed. She now knew that her abnormals were all gone, her Sanctuaries too. All her work, her accomplishments along with her friends had been stripped from her.

She shuffled through a pile of morgue photos and stopped.

Helen felt Nikola's close presence by the table. She stared down at the photo of Henry; a kaleidoscope of memories tumbling through her mind. Another lost, another small piece chipped off her heart. "He made weapons for the government until it fell." Nikola's voice was low in sympathy to the shell-shocked look on her face. "Kept making newer, better ways to destroy the infected."

The softest touch on her finger. Out of the corner of her eye, Helen saw Nikola's pinky finger curved around her own. Warm. Steady. And the best indication that whatever anger, whatever hurt he felt earlier on from her confession; he was still here for her. Not alone. Not yet.

"He...he wasn't half-bad at it," Nikola admitted begrudgingly. "He was...tolerable."

"High praise from you." Her voice was soft. Helen ran her other hand over Henry's morgue picture. Saying her silent goodbye to yet another fallen. Her world shrank just a tiny bit more.

"Druitt took a tactical nuke and teleported into the middle of a high-density infection area. He took most of Boston with him. That was two weeks after we thought you were dead." Will's voice broke through and Nikola watched Helen visibly sag. Blue-gray eyes watched her intently when she pulled away from his tentative touch, carefully hid Henry's picture, and threw herself into solving this problem with renewed energy.

Nikola didn't want to tell her how useless it would be. Helen would realize it soon enough.

Nearly an hour passed in silence. Helen read over everything she could, but her eyes always strayed back to the frozen, half-static picture of her video log.

Nikola said nothing and offered no help. He merely watched her in the futility of her quest for answers. She had done this all before, so had he. Nothing worked. And so he contented himself by watching the woman he loved; committing every feature to perfect memory that for the past three years, he had been deprived of. The curve of her cheek, the bounce of a curl, slender fingers.

Will bit his tongue, wanting to spew out more resentful, bitter remarks. Sitting apart from the two, he shivered. The changes to his mind, his body had not happened yet, but he knew. Five, six hours...and his number would be up.

For the fifth time, Helen replayed her video log. '...a spike in my immunoglobin levels.'

Will snapped at the repetitiveness. "Why did you come here? So you could retrace ground you've already covered?" He recklessly threw a folder near him, gaining no satisfaction as the papers fluttered onto the floor in disarray.

"There has to be evidence of this disease somewhere in the past. It cannot have come out of nowhere."

"You've already done this! You tried every single waking moment until the very end! We've done this dance. Humans are extinct!" He was so angry, so desperately angry. It was better than giving into the cold depression.

Nikola cocked his head, slicing his hand down in the air for silence, hearing something only he could. "One of the rudimentary alarms just went off." He shuffled closer to the door, straining to hear, to gauge how many were coming. "They must be hunting." He frowned. "Only a few, I think." Nikola turned to them. "It won't be long until more come."

"They have to be drawn away, otherwise they'll keep coming." Will's shoulders slumped. How many times had he done this? Had run away, only to be found? They were locusts. Suddenly all the anger drained from him, leaving Will all the more tired – everything was just so futile.

"I'll go." He picked up his gun. The anticipation of a fight, the protective instinct to ensure a friend's safety, the fear of facing off against death – Will felt nothing. Nothing but hopeless surrender to the inescapable truth. "I'll try to draw them away."

Helen was shaking her head at this plan, but Nikola's calculating voice stopped her. "You're infected, aren't you?"

Wordlessly, Will pulled his shirt away from his shoulder, revealing a black festering sore. Helen inhaled as Nikola silently approached behind her.

"All the more reason for you not to go. I can study you. All of these tests, these studies were conducted at a later stage of infection. Perhaps with you - "

Nikola held her back, wrapping an arm around her. He met Will's eyes and understood what Helen didn't. "Let him go, Helen," he said into her hair. Helen squirmed against his hold. "Don't you see? This is what he wants." He gave a cursory nod to the young upstart that he never liked, tightening his hold on Helen.

"Nikola! Let. Go." Helen gritted her teeth before switching her gaze to Will. "Will, please. This isn't necessary."

"I -" _I'm tired. I want this. I want to die already._ Will took a deep breath. "I'll try to give you some time." Squaring his shoulders, Will gave one last look before wrenching open the door and running out.

"Will! No," Helen cried, struggling against Nikola's strong arm. She shot him a fierce glare. "I could have saved him! I could have figured out what was wrong, where this plague came from, I could have - "

"He wanted to end it already, Helen."

"How dare you!" Helen moved to push him away. She had to get to Will before he disappeared completely. She could save him; she could.

Grabbing her hands, Nikola's thumb pressed against Helen's wound and she gasped sharply. Blood pooled onto the white gauze and immediately, Nikola let her go. Spinning away, he looked down at his bloodstained thumb, bringing it up to his face. At the scent, the sight, Nikola's eyes darkened. Untainted blood.

"Nikola?" She reached out to touch him and suddenly jerked back, crashing into a metal table behind her as he faced her, snarling in full vampiric face.

Just as suddenly as it came, Nikola clapped his hands over his face and shuddered. "I'm sorry." His voice was muffled. He stumbled back, breathing deeply. "I must confess, Helen, that it has been a while since I've taken my medication."

Her eyes widened, but to her credit, Helen didn't back away. Was this the cause of his erratic behavior?

A scratch at the door that slowly turned into a slow pounding. The two of them paused. Had the noise, their voices attracted attention?

"Stupid boy didn't do such a good job," Nikola hissed.

Rapid shots dispensed as he ran. It didn't require any sort of expertise with a gun or with aim, palefaces were everywhere. Harsh breathing from lack of food and proper exercise; his muscles were weak as he reverted to landing wild punches as they entered his personal space, reaching for him. A warrior's cry as they eventually overwhelmed him, clambering into a pile, all eager for a taste of Will's flesh.

Will did the best job he could.

One man against hundreds of rabid infected.

The slow pounding turned into violent bashing.

Nikola took off his utility vest. "I guess I'm up."

Helen stared at him as her heart stopped. "You can't be serious."

"I'll try to buy you some time, Helen. If you can make it to the colony in the Arctic, you'll be fine." Nikola glanced away from the dawning horror on her face. "The children didn't tell you, but...they have a son. A little boy they sent to live in the colony, in safety. They named him Magnus Zimmerman, can you believe it?" He was trying to distract her from his leaving and while Helen's eyes widened at the nugget of information, her sudden step toward him meant she knew what he was trying to do. "If you get there, Helen, you should look for him. You would be the closest thing he has to his parents." Now Nikola was trying to guilt-trip her.

Helen grabbed his hand, the first time she had ever done so, and held tight. "No." Her blue eyes pleaded. "No. Nikola...no, you can't do this." Hope had found her when he did earlier in the day. The light of not being alone grew brighter with the discovery of Will and Kate; Helen had foolishly allowed it to chase away the cold fear.

And now the blackest despair swept over her, seeping, engulfing, and extinguishing out that light. Five minutes with a grown Kate, still fighting a losing battle. An hour in total with a hostile Will, bitter and angry at his changed world. She'd killed Bigfoot. And less than a day with Nikola, her Nikola. "No," her voice was desperately begging.

"Helen," he said softly, but Nikola's eyes were firm. He squeezed her hand, not wanting to let go. Nikola entwined their fingers in a way that he wanted to for decades past. "They'll keep coming. I'll try to draw them away."

"Oh yes, we saw how well that worked with Will." Helen stopped, tempering her voice bordering on shrill. Her grip tightened. "You can't. You can't..." _Leave me alone. _

Nikola gently but firmly took his hand away. "Helen..." The desperation in her eyes hurt to see. "You can't stay here either. You have to get away. I'll draw them away from the river gate access." Trying to inject some lightness, Nikola stood back and took his time memorizing Helen's body, but even that brought home the finality of their fate. They were going to die. "You're in good shape, Helen. With the supplies here, you could make it. You need to make it out of here."

Clearing his throat, Nikola regretfully turned away. He could hear Helen's heart pounding, speeding up at the fast reality before them. In all of his dreams, his fantasies, his imaginings, never did Nikola envision their lives tragically ending like this.

He picked up his gun and swung the strap over his shoulder. Striding over to the other side of the room, Nikola revealed another door behind a metal cabinet. Helen followed silently, trying to think of something to say, to stop this madness. She couldn't let Nikola leave her.

"Just one last thing."

Nikola spun, grabbed Helen's face in between his hands, and kissed her hard. His lips smashed almost violently against hers, and Helen stood frozen in shock.

It was over before she knew it and Nikola brushed his thumb over her parted lips in the softest of touches. Her eyes were wide and distressed as Nikola leaned his forehead against hers. He looked back at her with sad eyes, still cupping her face.

"I love you." Nikola searched her eyes earnestly. "I know you didn't believe me, back then in Rome, but I was serious." He smiled sadly, not a trace of his arrogant self. Now was not the time for it, not when he, she, they, were most assuredly about to die. "I love you, Helen. Always have. More than you know." Nikola paused poignantly. His words couldn't express half of what he felt, but they were all he had and he stressed them all the more. "I love you."

Helen felt her eyes water. At their obvious end, their death.

Nikola struggled to give his customary smirk, but it wavered and fell. _I love you._ He took a deep breath, hearing the banging grow louder. _I love you._ Swooping in, Nikola pressed a hard, swift kiss against her lips and pulled away. Without looking back, Nikola vamped out, grabbed his weapon, and stalked out. _I love you._ The metal door closed behind him.

**No! **

Heart in her throat, Helen found herself gasping for breath. On suddenly shaky legs, Helen pelted toward the door. No, no, no, NO!

"Nikola!" Helen shouted, banging against the door.

Everyone was leaving her. This...this was the nightmare. Her Armageddon. Her worst fear. Having everyone leave her, to truly be alone. Already Helen could feel the fingers of cold loneliness press upon her, pulling her closer into its embrace and she swallowed fearfully.

She didn't want to be alone again. She hated it. She had already lost so many. John. Her father. Nigel. James. Ashley. Henry. Bigfoot. Kate. Will. Nikola.

Their warm familiar faces, showcasing a dozen different expressions. She'd seen them laugh, she'd seen them cry, shout in anger, fall in hopelessness, tighten with determination – Helen had seen it all. Their faces blurred to join the thousands of others faces Helen knew, of people she had called friends, called lovers, and even called enemies. They swirled dizzily in her mind, in front of her face, and Helen clapped a hand over her mouth in despair.

She banged her other hand against the door. "Nikola!" _Don't you leave me too! Please...don't leave me here alone. You say you love me...then why aren't you here with me? I'm alone. I'm all alone again. _"Nikola, please!"

Helen continued to pound against the door as she despairingly slid down the unyielding barrier onto her knees. "Nikola!" This was it. This was her life. With the people she loved being slowly snatched away, leaving one more gaping hole in her heart, leaving her body more hollowed with each passing year she walked upon this Earth, cursed.

Her head bowed and finally, Helen's futile pounding stopped.

She could longer hear the shots fired from Nikola's gun.

She was alone. Utterly alone.

"Please..."

Curled up against the cold metal, Helen took shallow breaths, shaking inside. Nikola...

That the banging on the other door continued didn't phase her; that it was getting louder by the minute and the cracks in the wall growing didn't either. Helen saw none of it. Her mind experiencing a complete break-down blocked out the sight of those cracks in the wall snaking out rapidly, shut out the sight of the door beginning to yield.

She understood. Painfully. How Will had become so bitter. The times had tested him and shaped him into what he was. Nikola's leaving her had tested Helen and she had broke.

The door finally gave, collapsing onto the floor with a bang. The palefaces advanced. Some twitched, some jerked, others dragged their feet, but all their beady, diseased eyes had Helen in their sights.

_Nikola...I'm all alone again. _

Slumping against the door, the gun in Helen's hand sat limply. The coldness that had descended upon the world welcomed her once more.

_Let them come, _Helen thought with a grim smile. She sat there, back against the metal door, and watched with morose eyes as the abnormals approached en masse. _Let them come. _

She had nothing to live for anymore.

_Let them come._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Bad day. Bad week. And it's only Tuesday. We've come to the end of this fic and I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it and major thanks and virtual cookies to all those who reviewed; it meant a lot. Thank you! Seriously.

* * *

It was warm. Rough stone scratched against her back. The air was stuffy, but breezy.

Helen opened her eyes and blinked. "Where...?"

She looked down at her hands and nearly dropped the green jar that was in them. Central America. The last thing she remembered clearly before it all went horribly wrong. "You!" Helen gasped, catching sight of the swirling mist a foot away from her. It drifted intelligently, as if waiting for her to put the pieces together.

"Did you show me that? Was that the future?" Helen lifted the jar in her hands. "Was that what would happen if I opened this?" Her eyes widened as her mind rapidly worked. "Is this what wiped out the Mayan civilization?"

Slowly placing the jar back in the alcove where she found it, Helen's mind connected the dots. Somehow, she didn't know how yet, opening that jar caused the end of the world - and she would be the one responsible. That horrible, nightmarish world; Helen had caused it, caused all of it.

"Is it safe here?" The mist 'stared' at her and Helen decided it was time to go home. "Thank you."

The vision of that alternate world had shown Helen more than just what would happen in her quest for mortality; it had opened her eyes to a few truths.

And now Helen couldn't wait to go home.

_"I felt like I had nothing to live for..."_

It wasn't true. Helen still had much to live for.

***

Henry's jubilant 'hey, doc!' greeted Helen with one foot through the door. This young man, who had been with her for more than ten years, electronic tablet in hand, brought a shaky smile to Helen's face. "How was the trip?" He bounced on his feet a little.

"A bust," she said faintly, discreetly surveying his face. Helen was happy to have him alive.

"Aw, that's too bad. But hey, souvenirs?" Henry's face was hopeful and Helen couldn't help but smile fondly.

"I'm sorry, Henry. I didn't have time. But," an odd, warm feeling began to fill her, "you know those upgrades that you keep bugging me about? I've decided we should get them. You can fill out those order forms."

Henry looked ecstatic. "Really? Seriously? Oh man! This is awesome!" He pointed at her. "You sure?" At her nod, Henry let out a whoop and ran off excitedly, calling over his shoulder, "You rock, doc! I'm totally on it!"

Helen decided right there, that she much preferred that happy smile lighting up Henry's face than his deceased postmortem picture; half transformed into a werewolf, pallid, and undernourished.

Her office was warm and rich. The sunlight shone happy rays through the window, pouring over her books and desk and Helen breathed in. The warm feeling growing stronger. Placing her backpack onto a chair, Helen ran a fond hand over her desk. She was home. The people she loved and cared about were alive, warm, and happy. The loneliness crowding her heart receded at the knowledge that there were still people around Helen that she cared about.

"Welcome back!" Will's cheery voice prompted her to turn around, almost taken aback by his warm demeanor. "Nice coat. Did you pick that up in Honduras?"

The lingering image of a hostile, unkempt, and bitter Will superimposed onto the young man in front of her. "No. I-it's one of my own."

Will nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "So, how was the safari?"

_This is how it should be_, Helen thought as they bantered.

"You're utterly pissed that you struck out, aren't you?" Will teased.

"'Adventure is worthwhile in itself,'" Helen quoted, smiling faintly. She took off her jacket. "Amelia Earhart. A wonderful friend. And I still remember it today. I remember a lot of great words from those I knew; they've helped me tremendously in rough spots." She stood up and moved toward the door, patting Will on the shoulder. "I remembered another just when you walked in." She paused in the doorway. "'Hope is the thing with feathers – that perches in the soul – and sings the tune without words – and never stops at all.'"

Will raised an eyebrow at his mentor's mysterious mood, knowing he was missing something. "Who said that?"

Helen gave a Mona Lisa smile. "Emily Dickinson. She was a wonderful friend, for all that we never met." She walked out, hoping that those words would be yet another lesson taught that Will would take away. Hope never leaves and hope never dies. Even in the darkest of times.

Strolling down the carpeted corridors of her Sanctuary, in all ways, Helen trailed her fingers over the walls, over the tables, the chairs, even the paintings she passed by daily and now took for granted. Never again. The rich tones of the paneled wood, the plush carpet underneath her shoes – everything was warm and vivid and the loneliness receded just a bit more.

Helen entered her bedroom and a sense of home was immediate. Washing over her. _I'm here, I'm home, and there's still so much left for me to do. The loneliness only wins if you allow it to. _

A quick shower that scrubbed off more than just the dirt on Helen's skin left her feeling cleansed, inside and out. A quiet sense of new purpose filled her. Hands brushed against the clothes in her wardrobe; Helen's fingers unconsciously fingering a deep lilac cling dress that Ashley had given her as a birthday present a few years ago. Her daughter was gone. A large part of her heart went with her, but there were still others around her that burrowed their way inside, holding Helen up. Others like...

-

..._and Tesla," Kate whistled lowly. "When he arrived at Sanctuary to see if it was true, the guy just shut-down. Locked himself in your room and came out three weeks later, issuing orders." _

-

Now clothed in the dress her daughter bought her, Helen brushed out her hair as she sat on her bed. And wondered what that Nikola had done for three weeks, cloistered in her room. Had he lain on her bed, encased in sadness and regret? Loneliness? Buried his face in her pillow? Stared at coveted pictures of friends lost? Well, maybe not the one with Albert. Helen paused. And he better not have gone through her drawer of delicates...

A knock sounded at the door and Helen's composure nearly slipped as she answered it. She'd killed this former patient of hers. His eyes that had been rabid, now looked at her with clarity and peace. Before Henry. Before Ashley. This abnormal who liked to scare children had shown he was her friend in the only way he knew how.

"You have a guest," Bigfoot announced, disgruntled. "He refuses to leave until he talks to you."

Helen smiled even as her stomach flip-flopped. "Judging by the look on your face, I know who." There were very few people that raised Bigfoot's 'hackles' and with the lack of blood anywhere on his body, it had to be a friendly. "You didn't leave him alone in my office, did you?" With the controls to the Sanctuary virtually at his fingertips.

Bigfoot huffed. "In the garden." A tiny grin lifted his lips. "I wouldn't let him in."

Hiding her own grin, Helen patted his large arm. "Thank you." She watched him shuffle off. Another member of her small family.

Making her way out to the garden, Helen's footsteps were light and content. Her experience in Honduras had truly frightened her and made her face up to a few truths. The sun shone brightly down onto her face, the smell of the tall hedges and flowers bordering the stone walkway warmed her.

Turning the corner, Nikola Tesla in his finest stood with his back to her, standing tall against the sun with one hand in a pant pocket. The sight of him warmed her even more.

Here was a man who sought solace in the one place she cherished above all others. Her Sanctuary. Amongst her scattered things, vainly seeking some, any comfort to his hollowed self. Her death left him lonely. Her sudden appearance gave him the courage to kiss her, repeat his sincere love, and then, ultimately die for her.

Helen touched her lips as if she could still feel the tingling. He had kissed her three times, each with a different emotion, all with that same split-second of warmth. Helen's lips curved into a small smile underneath her fingers.

Nikola had noticed her presence and spun around to spread his arms out to greet her, smiling cockily. His eyes appreciatively taking in her dress.

Helen surprised herself by checking the impulse to hug him. Instead, as she sat down on a nearby bench, Helen patted the seat next to her in invitation. Nikola sat close enough that their sides brushed and it was an odd feeling; to feel that hint of trepidation and uncertainty when it came to Nikola.

There was nothing like living through a deathly experience in a hopeless situation to gain perspective. And to see what was right in front of you.

Helen spent a minute just looking at him, really looking. The sharp angles of his face, the color of his hair (was it as soft as it looked?), the shape of his lips, his eyes that hid so much from the world.

A moment of silence passed where Nikola's smirk faded and he began fidgeting under her stare. "What?" he snapped. Her unreadable face made him uneasy.

His vitriolic response warmed Helen. It wasn't until she was in a situation where she lost Nikola, that Helen realized just how much she would miss him. How much he meant to her. And Helen suddenly smiled affectionately. "Nothing." _Just for once, happy to see you_. Helen felt that rush of contentment like she had when she had seen Will, Henry, and the others. "What brings you here?"

Nikola eyed her suspiciously before relaxing and launching into his tale. "Yours truly has rendered the Cabal impotent. Technologically, anyway. They still possess expendable henchmen with less than stellar intelligence and copious amounts of money, again not as much as us...so I will safely say that they won't be causing trouble any time soon. I rather enjoyed destroying them," he mused. "Of course, when I take over the world, as king, my first order will be their complete obliteration."

His hand was limp by his side and she'd never really noticed how long and lithe his fingers were. Without thinking, Helen slowly grasped Nikola's hand, holding it between her own two hands.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Helen could tell how off-balance Nikola was by her gesture and it made her smile even more. Affectionately squeezing his hand between her own, Helen let go. "For taking the time out of your selfish schedule to do this," she teased.

Clearing his throat after a silent moment, Nikola shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, well," Nikola's eyes kept straying to Helen's content face, "they were a thorn in my side as well. I've been wanting to get rid of them for years, Helen, and if you recall, I offered you a chance to help me do that in Rome. We could have easily taken them out then."

Rome.

-

_"I love you." Nikola searched her eyes earnestly. "I know you didn't believe me, back then in Rome, but I was serious."_

_- _

The contentedness faded and Helen once more found herself gazing thoughtfully at Nikola.

"Well, I should be off." Nikola dusted off his pants and stood. Helen's behavior and silent actions confused him and he didn't know what to make of it. Confusion where Helen Magnus was concerned was never a good thing in Nikola's eyes.

"Going so soon?" Helen winced. Did that sound as needy and panicked as she thought it did?

"I do have a world to ensla- conquer, Helen. Don't worry, I have just the perfect position for you." He grinned sexily at her. "And there's the revival of my great race; I have one or two plans in motion, which I won't tell you about since you'll just scold me and not punish me in the way I would like you to." Nikola ticked off his fingers and then looked at her. "Why? Have you missed me, Helen? You have, haven't you?" His sexy grin became cocky.

Nikola's eyes sparkled with life down her, and Helen loved seeing it. Nikola, alive, well, and his mischievous self.

Helen stood up, swallowing. "I-I know it's not the Met, but the local art museum has some wonderful pieces. An exhibit from New York is actually on loan here for the next few weeks." Helen glanced at Nikola and then away. "Perhaps you would like to join me? We could have dinner afterwards."

Nikola smirked. "Is this a date, Helen?" His voice teased her, but his eyes were questioning. Helen's decidedly-odd behavior was making him off-balance.

Helen hesitated, dipping her eyes to the grass. This was it. The first major change in her life, so why did she, a woman who never backed down from anything, feel so nervous?

Helen found she couldn't answer that, deciding instead to clasp her hands together and smile. "Are you coming or going?" Helen held her breath as Nikola subjected her to a piercing, calculating stare. Tonight, she would get her answers.

Nikola suddenly stepped away, briefly dismaying her before he executed a sharp bow and held out his arm. His face relaxed back into its usual playfulness. "It's a date."

Date? Helen's heart skipped. It was, wasn't it? Her smile widened just a fraction, hardly noticeable, but the sharpening of Nikola's eyes spoke of how well he knew her. And for the first time in her long life, Helen graciously accepted Nikola's arm.

Just as if he were courting her; the significance was not lost on either of them. The sun shined down on both of them as they left the garden; each a bundle of nerves.

The museum was surprisingly crowded, due to the showcasing exhibit. A pair of young children, both brown-haired, blue-eyed, broke away from their parents, giggling and nearly ran over Helen as they scampered up the marble stairs.

Nikola quickly wrapped an arm around Helen's waist, preventing her from falling. The children's parents hastily apologized before chasing after their children.

His slender arm felt like a steel band around her waist, holding her close. A solid warmth, a firm grasp, steadying her.

*

_That voice sounded so familiar, but no one she knew would hold her so tenderly, so protectively. _

*

With his touch, the loneliness vanished. And when Nikola pulled his arm away, for the second time, Helen checked her impulse to stay his arm. She settled for a thankful smile, quipped about being her hero, and moved onto the next exhibit.

The time passed as Nikola playfully flirted and Helen shot him down with quips and throughout it all, the closeness they once shared back before their lives led them apart re-established itself. It would be so easy to fall...

That ease continued as Helen coaxed Nikola to dinner at a favorite restaurant of hers. Helen couldn't contain her laughter, something so foreign nowadays in her life, at the waiter's confusion with Nikola's insistence on having wine only.

All in all, Helen snuck looks over at Nikola when he wasn't looking, it was a wonderful date. And why wouldn't it be? She adored Nikola; he held a large part of her heart – all of The Five did, but as Nikola smiled brilliantly at her, his eyes alive with light, his chuckles...Perhaps he held more than she thought. Helen was finally opening her eyes to Nikola Tesla.

And it was earth-shattering.

By the night's end, Nikola once more offered his arm as they stood to leave. At the exact moment they stepped out of the restaurant, the skies cracked open and it began to rain. Nikola gave an annoyed look at the sky and quickly looked around. "Helen, this way." Without thinking, he reached out and encircled her wrist, pulling her along as he ran into the park across the street.

The rain continued its heavy downpour, creating puddles that their shoes splashed in. Running down the wet pavement path, déjà vu washed over Helen as she paid no attention to anything but Nikola's hand wrapped securely around her wrist.

-

_"We need to keep moving," he growled out. Grabbing Helen's wrist, Nikola tugged her fiercely down the alley, toward the Sanctuary.  
He led the way, gun raised and firing madly..._

_-_

The clicking of Helen's heels were barely heard over the pelting rain as they ran through the park to a wooden gazebo, the lamps surrounding it unlit and plunging the area in moonlit shadows. Nikola held her wrist, guiding her up the steps and into the covered gazebo. They were soaked.

Catching her breath, Helen wiped the water off her face and glanced out into the pouring rain. The heavy beat of the raindrops, the crashing sound of droplets exploding onto the ground, the cloudy gray sky; it was eerily similar to the vision she'd experienced.

But the emotions were different. Then, Helen was trapped in a hole of confusion, frustration, and abject loneliness, where everyone she knew was dying one after the other. Here, Helen was warm and full, on a 'date' with Nikola and she tingled with the hopeful blossoming of happiness.

A jacket carefully laid itself on her shoulders and Helen felt Nikola's hands resting momentarily on her shoulders. His scent mingled with the smell of rain and it shocked her how comforting the smell was.

"It would be remiss of me to leave a lady shivering with cold." Nikola watched Helen smile gratefully, but didn't look at him, clutching his jacket closer to her body before adding, "Despite the wet view of your lovely body." When no familiar rebuke came, Nikola narrowed his eyes. Stepping up quite close, close enough to breathe in Helen's faint perfume, he pulled the wet strands of her hair out from underneath his jacket; a move which should have had her moving away. "Helen..." Nikola murmured. "What's going on?"

He was so close that if Helen turned her head, their lips would have undoubtedly met. Helen forcedly suppressed a shiver. Not yet. She still needed to know. "What do you mean?"

"You've been acting...different. I've caught you staring at me quite a few times tonight. Not that," Nikola shrugged nonchalantly, "I begrudge you. I am rather dashing and charismatic. I dare say I may be the male version of Helen of Troy. But, there's something going on with you."

Breathing deep, Helen stepped away from Nikola and toward the gazebo railing. Anyone could clearly understand that it was not the rain that had her so captivated, but her thoughts.

"Have you ever experienced a...hallucination so real where everyone you cared and loved was either dead or dying? A world completely destroyed and you were the only one left?"

"No," Nikola replied succinctly. "I was too obsessed with reviving my race to do drugs when it was 'cool'.

"I'm not talking about drugs, Nikola." Helen brushed a piece of wet hair off her forehead, staring out into the rain.

"My answer is still no."

-

_"I love you." Nikola searched her eyes earnestly. "I know you didn't believe me, back then in Rome, but I was serious." He smiled sadly, not a trace of his arrogant self. "I love you, Helen. Always have. More than you know." _

-

The poignant words repeated over and again in her mind.

Helen's hands gripped the gazebo railing, ignoring the peeling paint and splash of raindrops on her skin. With trepidation, blue eyes stared out into the heavy falling rain, hearing it fall, that familiar rain smell; Helen swallowed. That horrid experience still had the power to shake her. Nikola's face flashed before her, the sad acceptance of how they were going to die, the desperate longing, the regretful loneliness.

Those same emotions were probably mirrored on her own face. In the moment of their impending death, there was no reason to hide anything anymore. Helen frowned out at the rain. She didn't want to feel that way again, and this, this was the first step. More like a leap of faith.

"You were serious, weren't you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, hardly heard over the thunderous rain. She mouthed the words that no other ordinary person could hear.

But Nikola Tesla, part-vampire or not, was never an ordinary man. And his ears heard her just fine. "Helen?"

Tension blossomed inside her, holding her lungs hostage as she struggled to breathe properly. Still, she continued to stare out into the rain. "You were serious." It was no longer a question, but a near-silent statement. "Rome."

Giving the wooden railing a final squeeze as if trying to seek strength, Helen spun around and unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. "When you said you loved me...You were serious...Weren't you?" Helen asked softly, staring at him

Nikola's hair was plastered to his head with water-spots on his clothes from their run in the rain and Helen thought he had never looked so vulnerable. There was no life-or-death situation throwing them together or any devious plan that he masterminded and held all the cards; it was just a simple heartfelt question that trapped him. Helen stood patiently out-waiting him, for an answer and Nikola couldn't hide behind a flirtatious remark or arrogant crack.

Blue-gray eyes froze on hers, unreadable. Nikola's entire body stiffened at Helen's point-blank question. A moment of packed silence passed.

Clearing his throat, Nikola stepped back, breaking their locked eyes and struggling to get their dynamics back to a level he could control. Raising his hands as if trying to wave away the serious emotions roiling, to Helen it was a clear sign of how uncomfortable and uneasy he was with the conversation and she interrupted whatever he was going to say. She had to know. Helen had to believe that the other Nikola was telling the truth.

"If there was ever a time you wished for me to take you seriously Nikola, this is it." Helen's blue eyes gazed searchingly into his. Her breaths were so shallow, she may as well have been holding her breath.

Always before, Helen had dealt with Nikola's flirtatious remarks as nonsense, believing they were meant in teasing fun. Since his dubious confession in Rome, the notion that there was something behind his behavior lingered in her mind. In her hallucination, Nikola had confessed that he had meant it.

He was in love with her. Always had been.

The thought even now, moved like thick molasses, seeping into her brain. It was a slow process, a slow thought to wrap her mind around, but its effect was startling. It was as if a giant invisible hand had smacked Helen in the face, shouting that one simple fact: "Oi! The man in front of you loves you!"

How had Nikola gone over one-hundred years feeling this way? How had she not noticed?

And now that she had, what was she going to do about it? Helen held no delusions about being in love with Nikola, had no doubt that engaging in a relationship with him would drive her insane, but she did care for him, deeply; adored him, even when Nikola made her want to riddle his body with bullets.

Seeming to wrestle with himself, Nikola froze as Helen's words registered. If there was ever a time...To say what he wanted to say, to blurt out what he'd been feeling for so long without slipping it in there, without Helen wondering if he was joking or lying. If there was ever a time when plain, earnest honesty mattered...Helen forced this pivotal moment, and with fragility, was hoping Nikola would follow her lead. To not be alone anymore.

"Yes." Nikola's voice was quiet, low. Firm and steady.

The rain became background noise, incapable of affecting Helen and Nikola as they stood feet away from each other in the gazebo. And it was as if the rain had washed away their defenses, the thick shields they kept themselves wrapped in for over a hundred years.

The confession, the naked emotion only hardened Helen's resolve, but still she stumbled slightly, taking a step closer toward the watchful vampire. That vivid, horrific experience that lasted a mere day provided Helen with a clear moment of lucidity in her life. Her greatest fear was being alone, but she was alone by choice.

Her breaths ran faster.

"I don't know where this will lead us, but..."_ It would be so easy to fall in love with you. Perhaps...I'm already halfway there._

Nikola's eyes flashed and moved to say something, but any sound died as Helen cupped his cheeks and gently pressed her lips to his.

Warmth.

Shivers tingling underneath her skin.

The sound and feel of her heartbeat speeding up.

And Helen wondered if Nikola was feeling all the same wonderful, startling emotions she was.

Pulling back, stepping away, Helen slowly opened her eyes to see Nikola staring steadily back at her.

_I __**see**__ you, Nikola. _

His blue-gray eyes pierced her.

"Ni - "

He shook his head slightly, ceasing any words falling from her mouth, even if it was simply his name. Nikola's eyes darted from her uncertain eyes to her parted lips. He closed the distance between them. Once more, his blue-gray eyes repeated the process before at last showing longing in his darkened pupils.

"One more," Nikola quietly said. Dipping his head, he sought her lips in a light, tentative kiss. He applied a gentle pressure, giving Helen ample chance to pull away in this new, hesitant situation, but Helen merely tilted her face upward, wanting more. He broke free a scant second later, and Nikola could hear her racing heartbeat's tempo matching his own. How miraculous was this?

"One more," Helen repeated. The shivers turned to warm tremors flowing all over, leaving her strangely breathless.

Nikola's lips stretched into the most brilliant smile; soft and earnest in its appearance. His hands slowly rose to grasp her shoulders; his grip secure and gentle and Nikola kissed Helen again. This time, neither seemed willing to break apart so quickly, wanting to feel the happy warmth rising within. Nikola's hands slid from Helen's shoulders to cup her face, holding her just right to feel those lips against his.

Everything about this was questionable, wavering in its uncertainty. But Nikola had always pushed the boundaries, believing he was never limited, always seeking more. A man who lived the credo of anything was possible. And so, his heart embraced this enthusiastically, wholeheartedly, lovingly.

Helen had always dared to believe in the impossible. She saw examples of the 'impossible' everyday; sought it out, really. And here she was, hands clutching Nikola's arms just as firmly as he held her face, willingly kissing him. Wasn't this impossible? Unnatural? Inconceivable?

The part of Helen's mind that was not awash with pleasant fuzziness affirmed that it was possible, that it was natural, and conceivable, and so Helen embraced it. Tentatively, gradually, and hopeful.

They broke apart, mere inches.

"One more..."

Helen's hands grasped Nikola's shirt tightly, stepping into his embrace.

_I don't know where this is going to lead us, but, I want so badly to find out. Because I realize that I'm not alone, not as long as you're here, keeping me warm. _

Fin.


End file.
